


Due to Unforeseen Events Santa's Grotto Will Be Closed This Afternoon

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Community: lewis_challenge, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis and Hathaway are called to investigate when an elf is found murdered in Santa’s grotto</p>
            </blockquote>





	Due to Unforeseen Events Santa's Grotto Will Be Closed This Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for seren_bach for the Lewis Secret Santa at Lewis Challenge on LJ.
> 
> This is a Lewis case fic, so there are dead bodies, but no graphic descriptions.

“What did you say, sir?” James Hathaway asked as he followed his boss out to the car.

“They’ve found a dead elf in Santa’s grotto in Boswell’s,” Robbie Lewis replied. “And no, it’s not a joke.”

As they reached the store, Laura Hobson greeted them from the opposite direction, shopping bags dangling from both hands.

“Forensic gear coming gift-wrapped now?” Hathaway quipped.

“Haha, very funny. I had a couple of hours off to do some Christmas shopping; when they phoned I said I’d come straight here. Someone’s bringing my things out and I’ll get them to take my shopping back.”

“Bought anything interesting?” Hathaway tried to peer into the bags.

“Maybe. But I’m not showing you.”

Lewis, too, was curious. “There’s something here that’s bright pink. Must be for you, Hathaway, it’s just your colour.”

“That’s for my mother,” Laura remarked. “She’ll love the colour and my father will hate it, so she’ll be doubly pleased and wear it all the time.”

By this time they had reached the police tape. The grotto, although accessed through the toy department, was a separate entity and therefore easily cordoned off. The three of them ducked under the tape and whilst Laura departed to make a preliminary investigation of the body, Lewis and Hathaway went to talk to the constable who was standing outside the grotto.

“Who found the body?” Lewis asked.

“Father Christmas, real name Bert Fields. He’s in the rest room. Adamant he didn’t do it and looking as guilty as hell.”

“You think he did it?”

“No. The grotto was due to open at 2pm. We didn’t get called until 2.17. My guess is that he was late back, probably because he’d stopped for a drink from the smell of his breathe. And he’s worried that if the management finds out he’ll lose his job.”

“Anyone else around?”

“There’s a second elf – a Marcus Riley. Says he never went into the grotto.”

“Where is he now?”

“In one of the managers’ offices. Thought it better to keep them apart.”

“Thank you. Right, let’s go and inspect our dead elf.”

They joined Laura inside the grotto.

“I suppose there’s no doubt about the cause of death?” Lewis asked.

“Steak knife in the chest,” Laura agreed.

“Is there anything special about the knife?” Hathaway asked.

“They sell them here. They’re a popular item. I’ve got a set myself. The knife looks new – it could even have been purchased this morning.”

“Might be worth checking with the sales staff – see if anyone remembers anything suspicious,” Lewis said.

Hathaway nodded.

“Time of death?” Lewis continued.

“The grotto was shut between 12.30 and 2pm. I’d say the latter part of that time period, but I doubt I can give you more than that.”

“Thank you. We’ll leave you to it.”

Laura’s colleague had arrived with her equipment, so she went to collect it and pass over the shopping. The two detectives could hear giggling as the bags were handed over.

“Okay,” said Lewis. “I’ll take the elf; you can go and tell Santa that what you’d like for Christmas is a quick resolution of this case.”

Lewis found Marcus Riley in the manager’s office as he’d been told. He was accompanied by a constable, whilst the manager’s assistant continued to work on her computer.

Lewis turned to the middle-aged woman. “Would you mind giving us a few minutes?”

“Not at all. The officer said there was no problem with me continuing until you arrived. Can I get you any tea or coffee?”

“No, thank you.” Once she had left, Lewis turned to Riley. “What time did you come back to the grotto this afternoon?”

“About ten minutes to two, we had to be ready by two.”

“Did you go inside the grotto?”

“No, I was the elf outside, taking tickets, organising the queue. Justin, the er ...”

“The other elf?”

“Yes. He was inside the grotto with Bert.”

“And who arrived back first, you or Bert?”

Riley paused. “Bert.”

“You’re not dressed as an elf.”

“We weren’t allowed to walk around the store in costume – it spoiled the magic apparently.”

“So where did you change?”

Riley lifted his hoodie to reveal a bright green top underneath.

“Justin and I wore our elf costumes under our normal gear. Bert put his on top of his regular clothes. Helped him look fatter.”

“What did you do with your clothes when you weren’t wearing them?”

“Stuffed them in a sack which sat with the presents in the grotto. No-one would notice.”

“So, if you were ready for work, why hadn’t you gone into the grotto to change?”

Riley looked stunned.

“Why don’t you tell me the truth?”

Riley sighed. “Okay. I was late back. I’d met a friend, Esme, for lunch. We were talking and I left it to the last minute to come back and then she, er, detained me longer and I thought what the hell, Justin and I covered for Bert being late practically every day, just for once he could do it for me.”

“So what time did you get back?”

“I heard the clock chime two as I entered the store, so no more than a couple of minutes later.”

“What happened?”

“Bert came out of the grotto in a real panic, muttering about a dead body. I thought it was a wind up, because I was late and went in to look. And it wasn’t.”

Riley stopped and tried to control his breathing. The constable passed him a glass of water which he accepted gratefully.

“I went and found the floor manager and he took over. Called the police. Umm ...”

“Thank you. That’s all for now. We will need to confirm your statement, so if you could give the officer Esme’s details, that would be helpful.”

Lewis found Hathaway and the two of them headed back to the station. They compared notes. Fields remained adamant that he had been on time and claimed it had to be shock that delayed his reporting anything. Hathaway had asked him about the alcohol on his breath, but Fields had maintained he’d had a sip from his hipflask to steady his nerves. The question of why he was carrying a hip flask had been met with a “why shouldn’t I?”

“We need to get confirmation of when Riley and Fields actually came back. Have Julie go down there and ask around. I suspect no-one will want to get Riley into trouble so she may need to be tactful. I rather imagine no-one will be concerned for Fields.”

Later that afternoon Julie phoned to tell them Riley’s late arrival had been confirmed by his ex-girlfriend, also part of the store’s seasonal staff, who had tearfully agreed that she’d seen him come in late. She was surprised because he was usually extremely conscientious.

It had proved harder to find someone who had seen Fields. It was common knowledge that he was normally late and with everyone occupied with their own jobs no-one could say for sure when he had arrived. The store manager had confirmed that he was aware of Fields’ lateness and that he was on a final warning, but that he had enough to do without keeping a specific eye on a tardy Father Christmas. The implicit statement that a dead elf had only inconveniently added to his work load was writ large in his statement.

“Time to visit Justin Warner’s house. See what his flatmates can tell us about him.”

In the car Lewis turned to Hathaway. “Do you mind having to work over Christmas?”

“No, sir. Unless there’s a major incident, I’ll be able to get to Mass at some point.”

“And if there is?”

“God will understand. I thought you’d be wanting the time off, though.”

“I’m going up to our Lyn’s after Christmas for a few days. They’ve got a couple of big dos with Tim’s family at Christmas, so it made sense all round to do it this way.”

“Do you mind?”

“Not particularly. I always appreciated it when Lyn and Mark were small and other officers volunteered for Christmas. I’m happy to do the same in my turn.”

Hathaway nodded. He wondered whether he should say something about keeping each other company but at that moment they drew up outside Warner’s house.

A young man opened the door and showed them into the kitchen. He identified himself as Owen and then introduced them to the two others in the kitchen as Miles and Esme. None of them could think of any reason why Justin should have been killed, speaking of him as a popular student who seemed to get on well with most people.

“Apart from Dr Ransome,” Miles added.

“What was the problem there?” Hathaway asked.

“He challenged Ransome’s ideas rather too frequently.”

“I thought that was the sign of a good student?”

“Not according to Ransome.”

“Don’t look at me,” Owen added. “Not my field at all. As far as I could tell, you were all as bad as each other.”

“Shows how much you know,” was Miles’ rejoinder.

Lewis turned to Esme who seemed to be taking no part is the argument. “Could you show us Justin’s room, please?”

Esme led the way to the top floor of the house.

“Were you the young lady who had lunch with Marcus Riley?” Lewis asked.

“Yes, I was.”

“Can you confirm what time he left you?”

“It was about twenty to two. He was insistent that he had to be back at work on time.”

“It couldn’t have been any later?”

“No, I remember checking the time on my phone and teasing him about it. The guy who was Santa was always late so I didn’t see why he felt he had to be prompt all the time.”

“Right. Thank you.”

Esme went back downstairs and the two of them looked round the room.

“Someone’s been in here, looking for something,” Hathaway said.

Lewis glanced around the room. There were items scattered all over, in an apparently haphazard fashion.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It’s a bit like an archaeological dig in here – oldest stuff at the bottom working its way up to recently discarded at the top. Except on the desk, where someone’s carefully sorted through and then left things specifically arranged to look messy. I wonder if they found what they were after.”

Hathaway picked up various papers and flicked through them.

“It’s hard to say. We’ll get it bagged up and then I can go through it carefully later.”

“Think we should check on Riley’s alibi on the way back?”

“It wouldn’t hurt. Do you think he asked the ex-girlfriend to lie for him?”

“Julie seemed to think that she was genuine. She could have been a good actress.”

Hathaway checked the address Riley had provided – a street a couple of roads away from where they currently were.

They knocked at the door and another student let them in once they had explained who they were.

“He’s in the kitchen. We’ve been taking it in turns to make him mugs of tea.”

They were shown in. Riley looked up – blotched eyes showing he had been crying.

“Can we have a couple of minutes alone?” Hathaway asked.

The other lad nodded. “Call if you need me,” he said to Riley.

“We’ve been talking to Esme and she says you left her at 1.40,” Hathaway began.

“What? She must have been mistaken.”

“She seemed very certain of the time, sir.”

“But ...” Riley paused and then dug around in his wallet. “I paid for lunch on my card – the receipt should have the time on it.”

He found the receipt and passed it to Hathaway.

“13.47” he read. “Can I check the card?”

“Of course,” Riley handed over his bank card.

“Thank you. As you said, it seems as if Esme made a mistake.”

Lewis and Hathaway left the house.

“Either Riley had planned a complicated alibi or Esme is lying for some reason,” Lewis said.

“Do we go back and question her further?”

“I think we’ll leave it for today. We need to know more about Justin Warner and Dr Ransome.”

“Do we know where to find Ransome?”

“We’ll try his college first.”

They were on their way, when Lewis’ phone rang.

“Laura,” he answered. “What do you have for me?”

_“Nothing to do with the case.”_

“Oh!”

_“Don’t sound so disappointed. Since you and James are working over Christmas, I wondered if you’d both like to come to me for Christmas dinner. I’ll organise it so if the balloon goes up, we can simply postpone it.”_

“I’ll ask him. Hathaway, Laura’s invited the two of us to Christmas dinner. Do you want to go?”

“That’s very kind of her to offer but it might not ...”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then. Laura, we’ll both be coming. Do you want us to bring anything?”

_“If you wouldn’t mind getting the wine and some cheese and biscuits that would be great.”_

“Not a problem we can organise that. And thank you.”

They had reached Ransome’s college.

“I didn’t say ‘yes,’ sir.”

“Maybe not in words, lad, but your face lit up for an instant when you heard the invitation. I presume I have interpreted your action correctly?”

“Yes, sir. And thank you, sir.”

“Laura wants us to provide wine, cheese and biscuits. I’ll leave you to buy them and then I’ll go halves with you.”

“We’ll need to buy Dr Hobson a suitable present, too.”

“You can add that to your shopping list.”

The porter directed them to Ransome’s rooms. They knocked and he called to them to come in.

“Dr Ransome,” Lewis began. “I understand you had a student called Justin Warner.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you that he has been killed.”

Ransome, who had stood up to greet them, sat down suddenly.

“Can I get you something, sir?” Hathaway asked.

“Some water, please.”

Ransome indicated a glass and a bottle of water on the far side of the room.

Once he had had a drink, Ransome looked up.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. That was a shock. Why have you come to see me?”

“We understand you had had disagreements with Justin.”

“No.”

“Academic disagreements. Apparently he challenged your ideas rather too frequently.”

“He certainly challenged me, but nothing I couldn’t cope with. And he always gave me the courtesy of considering my response before replying. I may have said to him a couple of times that I didn’t want to spend time in discussions in the direction he wanted to go. But he always accepted that cheerfully enough. He was very bright and had an extremely enquiring mind, which lacked some discipline. Which is nothing unusual in a young man. I expect I was like that myself at that age. Who told you about this?”

“His flatmate, Miles.”

“Hmmm. There’s a different kettle of fish. He lacked Justin’s mental dexterity. He could produce good written work, but his verbal reasoning was very restricted. He seemed to get stuck in a groove and would resist any attempts on my part to move him out of it.”

“Were you ever surprised by the differences between Miles’ written work and his verbal ability?”

“Yes. I have to admit to being interested in the latest essay they are due to produce. He seemed to be struggling quite badly with the current topic.”

“Thank you, Dr Ransome.” Hathaway stood up.

“I’m sorry; I haven’t been of much use to you.”

“Not at all. You’ve been very helpful.”

Once outside, Lewis turned to Hathaway. “What was that about?”

“You remember someone had been searching Justin’s desk? I have a feeling Miles was looking for notes to help him write his next essay.”

“Do you want to go back to talk to Miles again?”

“Not yet. I’d like to look through the papers that came from Justin’s desk first.”

Once back at the station, Hathaway worked his way through the papers. He made several notes and finally stretched and looked at Lewis.

“There’s absolutely nothing that relates to the philosophy essay. Various notes, quotes, etc., for other work, but nada for this one.”

“Do you think Miles took them?”

“I doubt it. I suspect Miles would have copied anything he thought might be useful. No, I think Justin deliberately didn’t leave his notes on his desk.”

“So he suspected Miles was using his work?”

Hathaway nodded. The phone rang and Lewis answered it.

“What? Okay, we’ll come down.”

When Hathaway looked at him, he added, “Mrs Fields accusing the desk sergeant of having locked up her Bert.”

On arrival at the front desk, Lewis was confronted by an elderly lady who reminded him of Grandma in the Giles’ cartoons.

“Mrs Fields,” he began, “We haven’t arrested Bert. We haven’t seen him since we spoke to him in Boswell’s. What made you think he was here?”

“We were listening to the local news on the radio when Bert suddenly said ‘I’ve just remembered something that could be very useful. I’d better go and speak to them.’ He put his coat on and went out and hasn’t come back.”

“And you’d assumed he’d come here?”

“Who else would want to know about something very useful?”

“Well, he’s not here and he hasn’t been here. Let me find you someone to give you a lift home. And then if Bert is back by the time you get there, they can have a word with him.”

At that moment one of the constables called Hathaway over. 

“I’ve got someone on the phone called Owen wanting to speak to you, sir.”

Hathaway went over and took the telephone.

“Hello, Owen, what can I do for you?”

“Hi. You’ll probably think I’m being stupid, but you know when you’re watching a horror film and the hero looks in the cupboard and the axe that was there recently is no longer there?”

“Yes?”

“It’s sort of the reverse. I’ve just found four steak knives in our cutlery drawer. And I’m sure we didn’t have any.”

“Right. Why have you just found them?”

“My mum’s coming to pick me up tomorrow morning, so I thought I ought to clean the kitchen.”

“Okay. Are Miles and Esme there at the moment?”

“No. They said something about going out to meet someone. I presume they’ve gone to a pub somewhere. Didn’t even invite me to go with them. Not that I would have done so with mum about to descend.”

“I understand. Don’t touch the knives. We’ll send someone over to look at them.”

Hathaway put the phone down and instructed the constable to send a patrol car round. He then called Lewis over and told him about Owen’s message.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Lewis said. “Given that a normal set would have six knives, if one was used on Warner that leaves one knife unaccounted for.”

They were on their way back to their office when the desk sergeant called out to them again.

“Inspector Lewis, we’ve just had word of a fatal stabbing. Apparently, it’s Bert Fields.”

The two of them ran out of the building and headed for where the sergeant had directed them. On arrival they hurriedly made their way to where they could see the blue and white tape. Close to the tape they recognised Marcus Riley and the young man who had let them in earlier that day. 

Before they could say anything, Riley’s companion began, “It wasn’t Marcus.”

“And you are?”

“Adam Sanderson. We met when you came to talk to Marcus.”

“Yes. I remember you. Would you like to tell us what happened and why you are so sure that it wasn’t Marcus?”

“Esme, his so-called girlfriend, phoned him and said she wanted to meet him somewhere quiet. She said she thought it would help them both if they could talk about Justin. I didn’t think Marcus should be driving so I said I’d bring him out here and then stand at a discrete distance. We waited until it was the time she’d suggested, I drove, we walked over here and found the body. I phoned 999 because Marcus was being sick.”

“And you can vouch for your friend’s whereabouts from when we last saw you until now?”

“Yes, apart from the ten minutes I nipped out to the chippie. I don’t think he even moved when I was out.”

“And he certainly wouldn’t have had time to come out here. Did you hear the phone conversation or did Marcus go somewhere private to take it?”

“He stayed in the kitchen. He didn’t say much during the conversation and told me what Esme said afterwards.”

“Thank you. We’ll need to take a formal statement but for the moment, that will be all. You’re free to go.”

“Right. Okay.”

“If you don’t feel like driving we’ll get someone to drive you back.”

“Thank you. That would be good.”

Lewis and Hathaway went across to look at the body. Hathaway knelt down.

“More than one blow this time. Identical knife,” he said.

“We’ll need Laura to give us formal cause of death, but in the meantime I think we can assume that Fields died due to stab wounds.”

“Time to bring Miles and Esme in for questioning?”

“Definitely.”

On their way back to the station Lewis’ phone rang. He answered it.

“Good. When they arrive I want them in separate interview rooms.”

He turned to Hathaway.

“Miles and Esme were picked up from their house. Miles is blustering and Esme is remaining silent. They can sit there for a while until we are ready to interview them.”

* * *

They decided to interview Esme first. Miles had spoken to his father, who was arranging for a solicitor to be with him. Esme did not see why she should have anyone else present.

They began by asking Esme where she and Miles had been that evening. 

“We met up with the usual crowd and went for a drink.”

“Where did you go?”

“A couple of pubs. I’m not sure which ones, I just followed everyone else. Everywhere was packed, so I said to Miles we might as well go back.”

“You didn’t go to Trinity Rec?”

“No. Why ever should we?”

“You phoned Marcus Riley earlier. Why was that?”

“I phoned him to say that I didn’t want to see him again. I’m hardly likely to want to be involved with a possible murderer, am I?”

“You didn’t ask to meet him?”

“Certainly not. I told him I wasn’t interested.”

“What was his reaction?”

“He shouted at me, so I hung up.”

“Is there anything else you think we should know?”

“No.”

They left her in the interview room. Once outside they were met by Chief Superintendant Innocent.

“The solicitor’s arrived. It’s Barker, so don’t try bullying his client. What did the girl have to say?”

“Very little. Denies arranging to meet Riley and says that he shouted at her, which doesn’t agree with what Adam Sanderson told us.”

“Do you believe Sanderson?”

“Yes.”

“Right, so let’s see what Miles Herrick-Thomas has to say.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lewis and Hathaway went into the second interview room. Miles looked extremely nervous and kept glancing at Barker, who nodded at the two detectives.

“Could you tell us about the steak knives at your house, Miles?” Hathaway began.

“Esme bought them two days ago.”

“Can you tell us why there were no finger prints on them?”

“They were new.”

“Even if they were new someone took them out of the packaging and put them in the drawer. Whoever did that should have left their fingerprints on them.”

“Esme said we had to wear gloves whenever we touched them.”

“I see.”

Barker looked as if he was about to intervene, but Lewis changed tack.

“Tell me about Justin Warner. You didn’t like him, did you?”

“He’d stopped helping me. I needed him to get me started with the latest essay and he was refusing. He said it had to be all my own work, but all I wanted was the first thoughts and then I could write it.”

“Did you search his desk?”

“He always made notes. This time he hadn’t done any. I’d done so well up till then and he was stopping me from getting another good grade.”

“But you liked Esme?” Hathaway joined in with the questioning again.

“Oh yes. She was my Lady Macbeth. I was Macbeth and Justin was Duncan, preventing me obtaining what was rightfully mine.”

Barker was growing unsettled, concerned with what his client would say next.

“And what role did Bert Fields play?” Hathaway asked.

“He was Banquo. He knew too much and had to be silenced. There was no choice.”

Barker intervened. “I’d like to have a word alone with my client.”

Lewis and Hathaway exchanged glances, but before either of them could say anything, Miles continued.

“And who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him. I really hadn’t thought it possible.”

Lewis said “I think that would be wise, Mr Barker.”

***

Lewis and Hathaway met with Innocent the following morning.

“What have we got against Esme Hayden-Smythe?” she asked.

“Apart from the fact that she’s tried to implicate Marcus Riley, nothing much that’s concrete. She wasn’t present when Herrick-Thomas stabbed Warner, being with Riley at the time, and we only have Herrick-Thomas’ word that she was the one to stab Fields. She also denies buying the knives.”

“What’s your next move?”

“We’re going back to their house. We looked last night but didn’t find anything, but maybe something will be visible in daylight.”

“Were they picked up from the house?”

“Yes, but they hadn’t been there long. They weren’t there when Morgan and Webber collected the steak knives and it was shortly after that that we put out the call to bring them in. It will also give us a chance to speak to their housemate again.”

“How much does he know?”

“Officially, only about Warner’s death; no details were released into Fields’ stabbing last night. It’s possible Herrick-Thomas has said something, Hayden-Smythe certainly won’t have.”

“Any chance he was involved at all?”

“Yesterday lunchtime he was with members of a cub pack who were carol singing in one of the homes, and last night he was at home when the officers collected the knives, so it’s highly unlikely he could have been involved.”

“Right, well don’t let me stop you.”

Owen let them into the house when they arrived.

“We weren’t sure you’d be up,” Lewis said.

“My mother’s arriving soon. She texted me to be ready as she has other things to do today as well.”

“Sounds reasonable. Tell me, how did Esme get on with Justin?”

“She hated him. She liked to pick on someone, get them to take her out a few times and then dump them. She tried it with Justin, but he dumped her first, accused her of being shallow. She didn’t take kindly to that at all.”

“Did she ever try anything like that with you?”

“I’m gay, so she didn’t bother.”

“Fair enough.”

They heard the sound of tyres on the gravel outside the house.

“That’ll be my mother. Is it okay if she comes in?”

“Yes, of course. We’ll be taking a look in the other bedrooms.”

Lewis and Hathaway headed upstairs. Once out of sight, Lewis turned to Hathaway.

“Keep an eye on what they take out. I doubt they’ll be anything but you never know.”

Owen was obviously prepared for his mother’s arrival and a few minutes later he banged down the stairs carrying a suitcase and a couple of other bags.

“Do you want me to bring anything down?” his mother asked.

“Just the laundry bag, it’s in the corner of my room.”

“Of course. Don’t tell me; it’s got a month’s worth of washing in it.”

“Something like that.”

Lewis smiled as he heard Owen’s mother head up the stairs; clearly some things never changed. Then he stopped smiling when he heard her exclamation.

“Oh really, how many times do I have to tell you to rinse things when you’ve got blood on them? I presume this is from your rugby top.”

There was the sound of clothing being pulled out of the bag.

“Owen! What’s this?”

Hathaway was the first to enter the room, to find Owen’s mother holding up a lemon coloured hoodie that was liberally splattered with blood stains.

He held out his hand. “Can I take it, please?”

Lewis and Owen arrived together.

“That’s Esme’s,” Owen said. “How on earth did it get there?”

Lewis looked across at Owen’s mother.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course. I’m a midwife; you don’t think some blood is going to upset me, do you?”

Hathaway looked up. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to take this bag in as evidence.”

Lewis looked across at Owen’s mother, saw her mouth twitching and they both started to laugh.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I realise that this is a serious matter. I just pity the poor soul who has to deal with a month’s worth of my son’s socks.”

Lewis and Hathaway watched as Owen and his mother drove off and then Lewis said, “It looks as if we may have found the evidence we needed, we’ll check to see if we can find anything else and then we can interview Miss Hayden-Smythe again and see if she’ll be rather more co-operative this time.”

***

That afternoon Hathaway turned to Lewis as they left the station, both happy that the case had been tied up.

“I need to go shopping and pick up the things to take to Laura’s. Do you want to come with me?”

“No, there’s one or two things I need to buy as I have to provide a Christmas stocking for someone who has been a very good boy.” And with a wink at Hathaway, who was blushing furiously, he departed.


End file.
